That Elf
by probablyquantum
Summary: Hawke learns that Fenris has some hang-ups about jealousy. Also, rich people can be rude. Set during Act III. M!Hawke/Fenris Slash.


Title: That Elf

Author: probablyquantum

Fandom: Dragon Age II

Genre: Romance, Angst

Pairing: M!Hawke/Fenris

Rating: T

Warnings: Slash

Summary: Hawke learns that Fenris has some hang-ups about jealousy. Also, rich people can be rude. Set during Act III.

Disclaimer: BioWare owns the characters and storyline of Dragon Age II. This story was not written for profit.

^^V^^

**That Elf**

**By probablyquantum**

^^V^^

Hawke perused Hubert's selection of amulets and paused to consider one that would aid his healing spells, which he seemed to need more frequently lately. He hesitated, though; his goal today had been to sell off most of his things, not to increase his collection of odds and ends.

On the other hand, Hawke liked to support Hubert's retail business since they were former business partners. Hawke worried that the loss of the mine's income had driven the man to despair. Hubert was busy chatting about a new venture in Starkhaven, though, so perhaps he would be all right.

Today was a busy shopping day for Hightown, and several nobles crowded around the same stall. They gave him a respectful amount of space and greeted him as Kirkwall's Champion, of course, which more than made up for the occasional, unintended jostling.

Fenris was somewhere in the market, as were Varric and Isabella. Fenris's presence usually caused the shopkeepers some concern—Fenris swore they always looked at him like he was going to steal something—but now Hawke could hear additional whispers among the customers, particularly their neighbors. It had been a few months since Fenris and Hawke had reconciled. Thanks to Isabella and a few indiscreet comings and goings from Hawke's estate, most of Hightown knew about the unlikely couple.

Fenris treated all questions and sidelong glances with his usual disdain, but Hawke wished people would find something more important to talk about than the Champion's elven lover.

As Hawke paid for the amulet, Fenris appeared at his side, close but not touching him. "I bought you something," Fenris murmured, his deep voice quiet enough that people would not overhear.

Hawke grinned and placed his free hand briefly on Fenris's lower back as he turned away from the shop. He made sure that the gesture was fleeting since Fenris tended to bristle when Hawke tried to be affectionate in public. "You got me a gift?" He could not help but be surprised.

Fenris shrugged. "You have given me—"

"Champion!" A woman's voice interrupted whatever Fenris was planning to say. He glared and stepped away from Hawke as a well-dressed noblewoman detached herself from her group to approach them.

Hawke recognized her as the hostess of a dinner party for which he'd had the misfortune of being the guest of honor. He displayed his most convincing smile and hoped it didn't appear too contrived. "Lady Bannock, lovely to see you again. Fenris, this is Abigail Bannock. She has a lovely home near the de Launcet estate." Fenris nodded his greeting instead of speaking.

The woman bobbed her head, glancing skittishly from Hawke to Fenris. She was an older woman, not much younger than his mother would have been, but reasonably pretty for her age. Her family was well-connected, and her husband had been a personal friend of Viscount Dumar. "A pleasure, and you are too kind, Champion."

Fenris dismissed himself from the conversation with a swift "If you will excuse me," which was far more polite than Hawke had expected.

Once she had Hawke alone, Lady Bannock relaxed noticeably. "You would do me a great honor if you would attend my sister's gala next week, Champion," she explained. "You met her briefly last time, do you recall? Her name is Constance, and her husband, Jawn Marrin, has a manor in the country not far from here. He's a barrister, I'm afraid, but a wealthy one."

"I remember Lady Constance, certainly," Hawke said. He remembered liking the sisters well enough, but they were overly polite and fawning. "She's hosting a party?"

"Yes, a debutante dance, actually, for her daughter, Annabelle. We're inviting many of the eligible bachelors in Kirkwall, naturally, but I wanted to invite you especially. Annabelle is about your age and has a rather no-nonsense attitude about her. I think you'd get along splendidly."

Hawke cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. He had no idea what the protocol was for politely turning down a request to woo someone's niece. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fenris's back stiffen and his fists clench, and that decided him. "That's a lovely sentiment, Lady Bannock, and I'm flattered. But I'm afraid I must decline, since I'm already spoken for."

"I suspected you might say that, but you should know that my nephew is incredibly handsome and rather a good hunter. Why just last week he took down a wyvern at—"

Hawke raised his hands in defense. "When I say I'm spoken for, I mean it. I'm sorry."

Lady Bannock blinked in shock, and Hawke figured he'd broken some rule of etiquette he didn't know about. He felt a keen yearning to ask his mother for advice. "Excuse me," he said and rushed to join his friends.

Isabella and Varric were watching him with raised eyebrows and barely concealed smirks, but Fenris looked downright murderous. Hawke was surprised that the elf's lyrium tattoos weren't glowing. "Sorry," Hawke whispered, but Fenris looked away.

"You're so popular, Hawke," Isabella cut in. "Next time take the invite and me as your date. I'd be happy to talk to some rich woman's lonely nephew."

Hawke was grateful for the joke, but he wasn't sure it was the best way to go. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to never have to go to another party so long as I live."

"Where's the fun in that?" Isabella asked, pretending to pout.

In the awkward silence that followed, Hawke overheard Lady Bannock's group tittering nervously. "What he sees in that elf I'll never understand," said a woman whose voice carried embarrassingly far. "Such a waste."

Hawke was torn between ignoring the woman and hurling a fireball at her, but Fenris didn't give him a chance to decide. Instead the elf rolled his eyes and said, "Let's go."

Angry at himself for not doing anything about the rude comment, Hawke caught Fenris's arm and pulled him back into their small circle. He misjudged Fenris's resistance, though, because the slight elf fell forward against his chest. Hawke didn't really plan what he did next, but he steadied Fenris with one arm, cupped his cheek with the other, and kissed him deeply in the middle of the public square.

He expected Fenris to push him away, but instead the elf froze and allowed the kiss.

Half the crowd went quiet and the other half started talking over each other. It didn't help when Varric whistled and Isabella hooted. "Go Hawke!" Isabella cheered. When some people in the crowd joined in, Hawke figured he was pressing his luck and released the strangely compliant Fenris from his grasp.

Fenris looked a bit flushed and very uncomfortable. He glanced around and tried to hide his nervousness behind bravado. "I didn't realize you were an exhibitionist."

"I'm not. Just making a point. You're right, let's go." Hawke led Fenris out of the market by his elbow, deftly maneuvering to avoid a scandalized Lady Bannock.

Fenris stayed aggressively silent until Varric and Isabella said their goodbyes and headed off toward Lowtown. As soon as they had rounded the corner near Hawke's estate, Fenris shrugged off Hawke's arm and marched a few paces ahead.

"Fenris, I'm sorry." Hawke jogged to catch up, and he was glad that Fenris appeared to be headed for Hawke's estate instead of his own mansion. "I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to upset you."

"We'll talk inside," Fenris said over his shoulder. "Not here."

Hawke sighed and suffered through the excruciatingly long walk back to his home. At least Fenris had stopped running off to be alone when he was upset. Once inside, Fenris began cursing at him in a long string of Tevinter, not stopping to listen to Hawke's repeated apologies. Past the foyer, Hawke saw Bodahn usher Orana and Sandal into an adjoining room to give them some privacy.

Hawke crossed his arms and waiting for Fenris to calm down. Eventually Fenris stopped cursing and also crossed his arms, mirroring Hawke's posture. "You're done?"

"No. Just in Tevinter. Would you like me to translate?"

"Fenris, just stop. I said I'm sorry, and I'll never do anything like that again. I don't even know why I did it; those people just made me so angry, trying to set me up with their relatives when you're right there, and they know about us, don't think for a moment they don't."

"I know."

"It's not like this is a secret. It never was, right?"

"Correct."

"I know you don't like being affectionate in public, and I shouldn't have kissed you, not like that. Please forgive me."

Fenris bowed his head, the fight seeming to leave him. "It's not just that, Hawke."

Hoping that he was now allowed near his lover again, Hawke took a few brave steps forward and gently slipped his arms around Fenris's waist, pulling him into a loose hug. Fenris kept his arms crossed for a moment, then relaxed and leaned his head into the crook of Hawke's neck. "Tell me what's bothering you, then," Hawke requested softly.

Fenris shrugged and mumbled something into Hawke's collarbone.

"I didn't catch that."

Fenris raised his head up but was too close for Hawke to look him in the eye. "I said, I am below your station."

Hawke laughed despite himself, but he quickly stifled the laughter when Fenris stiffened and tried to pull away. "Maker, Fenris, why would you care about something like that? Or think that I would care, for that matter?"

Fenris shook his head. "It's just that when I met you, you were . . . and now . . . I'm sorry. It's foolish, I know. Forget I mentioned it."

Hawke bit his lip. He knew better than to push Fenris to discuss something he didn't want to talk about, but at the same time he could not have Fenris thinking that he was inferior or whatever it was that was going on in the elf's head.

"Fenris," he began carefully, "I'll drop it if you really want me to, but I want to talk."

Fenris leaned against him again. "All right."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Thank you. You may talk now."

Hawke searched for something to say. "Remember what I asked you three years ago? You asked me if it bothered me if you were an escaped slave and an elf living in a borrowed mansion, and I asked whether it bothered you if I was a refugee and a mage?"

"I remember."

"Well, does it bother you that I'm rich and respected?"

Fenris smiled weakly. "No, Hawke, that doesn't bother me. It's not that, it's just . . . ." He walked toward the inner doorway and began to pace, which was his habit when he was thinking. "I feel like a kept pet, I suppose."

"Fenris, that's ridiculous."

"That did not come out right. I meant that I cannot help but feel . . . possessed. The feeling comes naturally. When I stay here and your servants tend to us, when you pay for things, when you . . . touch me in front of others, I feel like I belong to you, and it's worse when those nobles treat me like I'm your servant, or your . . . ." He let his words trail off.

"You and I both know you aren't my property, Fenris. I can't help what other people think."

"You could stop _touching_ me like you do."

Hawke bit back a hurt retort; snapping wouldn't help matters. Instead, he took a deep breath. "Then you have a deal. I won't touch you in public unless you initiate it. I guess I thought you'd get used to it; I didn't think about _why_ you don't like it."

He sounded more wounded than he would have liked, and Fenris approached him again, taking his hands. "I know it isn't fair to you. You . . . are the kindest man I have ever known. You have never treated me like a slave. But sometimes what I feel and what I know are not the same."

"I understand."

"Thank you."

"I just want you to know one thing. I kissed you today because I wanted people to know I belonged to you, not the other way around."

Fenris wrinkled his brow in confusion. "You do not belong to me, either, Hawke."

"Yes, I do. There's a way to belong to other people without being subservient, Fenris. Weren't you angry today when Lady Bannock wanted to introduce me to her niece and nephew? You were jealous, weren't you?"

"I . . . yes. I am sorry. It was wrong of me. I hate that I feel that way."

"Fenris, you have every right to feel possessive of me. I know we don't talk about our relationship very much, but I _am_ yours. That doesn't mean I'm your property, but it does mean you get to glare at people who make passes at me."

Fenris traced the embroidered edges of Hawke's robe while he considered that. "Do you feel possessive of me, then? In that way?"

"Maker, all the time." Hawke caressed Fenris's cheek with a light touch. "You don't see the way some people look at you."

Fenris's expression darkened. "I see it. I simply choose to ignore it. As should you."

"I try, but it's not like it's easy."

Fenris stood on his toes to kiss Hawke's lips once, briefly. "I do not mind belonging to you in that sense. But it may take me some time to get used to . . . certain aspects of it."

"No touching. Understood."

"Thank you, Hawke. I don't know what I did to make you think I deserve you, but I'm glad it happened."

"You deserve _everything_, Fenris." Hawke felt his heart contract when Fenris smiled. "Hey, didn't you say you bought me something?"

"Oh, yes." Fenris fumbled in the pouch at his belt. "I was going to say earlier that you have given me many gifts already, and I wanted to do something for you in return. It is not much, but I thought it would be useful."

Fenris dropped a small, gold band into Hawke's palm. The tingle of a strong enchantment hit Hawke immediately. "A ring?" he asked, holding it closer to the lamp. He turned the band in the light and smiled when he saw the design. "With my family crest?"

Fenris shuffled his feet in a rare display of nervousness. "The crest of the Champion is very popular in shops now. They put it on everything. The merchant said it has an enchantment for healing spells."

"It does," Hawke said, slipping it on his hand where a wedding band would normally go. He was certain Fenris did not miss the significance. He kissed Fenris gently.  
>"It's perfect. Thank you."<p>

"Of course, Hawke."

Hawke held Fenris again, nuzzling his neck and tracing the lyrium pattern with each kiss. Fenris moaned and seemed to forget all his indecision from a moment before. Hawke knew that they still had a lot to work on, but he felt that at least they now understood each other better. He was looking forward to that night, but there was still much to be done.

They stole what kisses they could before setting off to see about the trouble at the Gallows.

-End-


End file.
